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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 3 months ago

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Where to Run

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @deansobssessedgirl

Synopsis: you’re on the run from the British Men of Letters, and you meet your big brothers for the first time.

Entering the United States unnoticed had gone better than you thought it would. As soon as you got through passport control, you dug into your backpack—the only luggage you had brought with you, and it contained all you owned—and pulled out two pieces of paper. You considered them both for a long moment—one, an over a decade-old letter with the name of a small city in black ink in the middle of it, and the other a list of cities, one circled in red.

The list would take you to a nearby Men of Letters bunker in Lebanon, and the letter…

The letter might just lead you to your father.

…

“And you’re sure we haven’t already been to this one?” Sam asked his big brother as they pulled up to a storage facility.

“Of course I’m sure. I would’ve remembered one so close to Lawrence,” Dean said.

“What do you think dad kept in here?” Sam questioned, his curiosity getting the better of him as Dean led the way to the right storage room.

“Who knows?” Dean shrugged. “Let’s just hope one of these works.” He jangled a small set of keys on a ring that John had left in the car—they contained a spare key for the Impala as well as John’s old truck, and several storage facility keys. Dean had thought that he and Sammy had been to all of John’s secret storage places, but after scanning John’s journal for the hundredth time, he caught sight of an address scratched in the corner of a page with a storage number.

“It’s this one,” Sam spoke up, grabbing the keys from Dean and trying a few before one finally worked.

The room was small, but packed full. Sam and Dean—after carefully scanning for traps—split up and began to go through their father’s things.

“Hey, I think this file cabinet’s locked,” Sam said from one corner. Dean lifted his head, but didn’t go to his brother’s aid, too busy going through a box of odds and ends.

“Or you just didn’t pull hard enough—maybe if you had any muscle in those noodles—“

“Ok, ok,” Sam interrupted with a scoff. He rolled his eyes, but didn’t dismiss Dean’s theory—he yanked hard on the file cabinet, and it jerked open in a cloud of dust. Coughing, Sam reached down to shuffle through what was inside. “Hey, there’s only one file in here.”

“Fascinating,” Dean said in a tone that said exactly the opposite.

“There’s a birth certificate inside,” Sam said, and suddenly his voice caught. “With…with dad’s name on it.”

“Dad’s birth certificate?” Dean asked, mildly intrigued.

“Dean…not dad’s.”

“What?” Dean was by Sam’s side before Sam had even seen him move.

“Y/N Winchester, born to John Winchester and…Jane Doe.” Sam frowned, his brow crinkling. “I wonder why dad would use his real name when the mother used a fake.”

“This can’t be real,” Dean insisted. “I mean…I know with Adam…but another one?”

“Let’s see,” Sam mumbled, putting the certificate inside and checking the rest of the file. “Pictures.” Sam held up a stack, which Dean immediately snatched from him. Sam ignored this, because he’d found his own details to focus on. “And letters.” Sam grabbed the first letter from a stack of dozens, and began to read. “Dear John…our girl turns one today…”

Dean tapped Sam’s shoulder and held up a photo of a little Y/H/C girl blowing out a singular candle on a pink cake.

Sam moved onto the next letter, skimming it.

“Dear John…I put Y/N in gymnastics because it’s the only way I can get her to work on strength training and endurance.” Sam’s brow crinkled in confusion, but he was distracted when Dean held up a photo of the same girl, a few years older, in a gymnastics leotard on a balance beam.

“What do you think she meant by training?” Sam asked. “Do you think she was a hunter?”

“Could be.” Dean shrugged. “Maybe that’s why she signed her letters Jane Doe.” Dean pointed to the bottom of the letter, where “love, Jane Doe” was written.

Sam was about to pull out another letter when his fingers froze on the paper.

“Dean…”

“Hm?” Dean asked distractedly, still going through photos.

“Dean look at this.” Sam flipped the paper around, and on the back of it was a watermark—an indicator of who made the stationary.

It was the Men of Letters insignia.

…

“Lebanon, please,” you said to the taxi driver. “I’ll direct you to a more specific location when we get there.”

The man shrugged, unbothered, and began the journey.

You desperately wanted to go to Lawrence in search for your father, but you had to be realistic—you hadn’t eaten all day, you were jet lagged and exhausted, and you needed a plan of action. You needed to recover and regroup, and you needed to do it in a secure location; you needed to feel safe. In fact, you were so wound up that you flinched when the radio came on.

“—o one seems to have any information on who is causing the recent string of murders. The chief of police has offered no comment, other than a warning that the people of Lawrence should stay indoors when possible, and be alert. But there’s no denying the oddity of the case—the mass murderer seems to have some kind of vampire ideologies, with each of its victims drained completely of their blood. In other news—“

“Hey, driver!” You called out, and he glanced over his shoulder to indicate he was listening. “I changed my mind. Take me to Lawrence.”

…

“It’s gotta be another djinn.”

Dean would’ve groaned if he didn’t have a mouthful of hamburger to swallow first.

“Not those again,” he said after a gulp of beer washed down the last of his burger. They’d finished going through John’s things—Sam taking the file of your pictures and documents with him—only to leave and stumble upon a case. Dean had wanted to stop at a diner on the way back home, but he hadn’t expected to walk past a news stand to see a paper with “vampire killer” written across the front. It took Sam less than ten minutes of reading the paper, as well as a little time on the internet, to render the paper completely wrong.

“It doesn’t fit with a vampire. No teeth marks, no signs of struggle, the bodies were found in a different location from where they were taken—it’s definitely a djinn.”

“Ok, so silver knife dipped in lamb’s blood.” Dean sighed. “We happen to have one of those?”

“I think we still have the one we used last time in the trunk,” Sam said.

“Then let’s get going.”

…

You picked up a machete after being dropped off by the cabbie, hoping beyond hope that the radio had been right (even if they were kidding) about it being a vampire—there were several monsters known to drink blood, and if it was anything other than a vamp then things might get tricky. Normally you would be more prepared, but it wasn’t like you could get your weapons through customs when traveling to America, and you’d had to travel light so you could move more quickly. The British Men of Letters worked quickly, so you couldn’t take any chances. And buying up strange kinds of weapons near an old Men of Letters bunker was definitely too high a chance to take, so all you could do was hope that it was a vamp.

You’d done so much research about Lawrence that you barely even have to wonder where the creature might be hiding out—while researching Lawrence, you’d almost automatically noted the places where a supernatural being might be inclined to hide, so all you had to do was see which one was closest to the bodies that were dropping.

Then you were ready to hunt.

…

“I’m telling you, this has to be it. It’s nearly equidistant to all the bodies, and it’s the perfect place for a djinn to hide out.”

“You don’t have to sell me on the location, I believe you,” Dean told Sam. “But you do have to tell me how to get there.”

“Turn right here…yeah, and a left at that stop sign, and then we’re there.”

“So are we just not gonna talk about it?” Dean asked after a beat of silence as he followed Sam’s directions.

“Talk about what?”

Dean scoffed. “I don’t know, maybe our little sister?”

“I don’t know what to say, Dean,” Sam sighed. “There’s no address anywhere in the documents or the letters, and we don’t even know her mother’s name, or if Y/N even goes by Winchester. Her mother used an alias, it makes sense that the kid would go by one, too. We have no reason to believe that she’s going by the name on her birth certificate, so we don’t have the first clue on how to find her.”

“Well it feels like we have to do something,” Dean argued. “I mean we don’t even know if this kid knows about dad—for all we know, she thinks he’s still alive. She deserves to know.”

“Why the sudden interest?” Sam questioned. “You didn’t seem all this interested when we found out about Adam.”

“That was different,” Dean sighed. “With Adam…Adam was just some normal, innocent kid who saw dad once a year for a baseball game and knew nothing about the life. This kid—Y/N—with the talk in those letters about training, and the Men of Letters insignia…she’s in this life, Sam, I can feel it. And since dad’s not around anymore…I think it’s our job to make sure she’s ok.”

“And I’d be happy to do that,” Sam insisted. “If only we knew how to find her. But for now, let’s do what we can do—take out this djinn.”

…

The sight of a car in the parking lot of the abandoned warehouse worried you—even if it was a beautiful car.

“Chevy Impala,” you mumbled to yourself. “67, I think.” You shook yourself, moving your mind back to the task at hand, rather than the conversation you were having with yourself. Hopefully the car here didn’t mean that its owners were anywhere near the warehouse—the last thing you needed was some innocent people getting in the way and getting hurt.

Seeing no one around, you hefted your machete and headed inside.

…

Dean gestured at Sam to be quiet as he peaked around a corner. Signaling that the coast was clear, Dean led the way through the warehouse, the silver dagger gripped in his steady hand. Dean was just signaling Sam to wait so he could check around another corner when—

“Hey!”

“Jeez—what?”

Dean stopped himself just short of cutting not a djinn, but a Y/H/C girl wielding a machete that was aimed at him.

“Hey, easy.” Dean took a quick step back, raising the knife and his hands in the air. “We’re not—“ Dean’s words died in his throat when he got a good look at your face.

“Dean,” Sam breather from beside him. “It’s—“

“No kidding.”

“What are you talking about?” You demanded, lowering the machete just a little bit. “Who are you guys, what are you doing here?” You didn’t want for an answer. “You have to get out of here, there’s a—“ your eyes fell to the silver dagger.

Sam’s gaze followed your own to the weapon in Dean’s hand before he looked back at you.

“It’s not a vamp,” he said, gesturing at your machete. “It’s a djinn.”

You lowered your machete completely.

“You’re hunters?”

Dean couldn’t keep the astonished smile off his face.

“And you’re Y/N Winchester.”

The machete was back up in an instant.

“Who are you?” You demanded for the second time. “Men of Letters?”

“Easy, easy,” Dean said, taking a step back as you advanced on them. “I’m not—“

“Guys!”

Sam’s warning proceeded the arrival of the djinn by a split second—just enough time for Dean to dodge the blow that the djinn tried to land on him.

“Hey!” Your call turned the attention of the djinn, who grabbed hold of your arm before you had the chance to move away. He twisted your arm behind your back until your machete was crashing to the ground and you were crying out in pain.

“Here!” Dean’s call came a second before the silver dagger was hurtling at your face. You snatched it up with your free hand and twisted it so it was facing the djinn a moment before you plunged the dagger into the djinn’s side. He howled with pain and released your arm, giving you an opportunity to spin around and stab again, this time in the neck.

The djinn went down without a sound, and the thud of his fall echoed through the empty room. For a long moment, only the sound of heavy breathing could be heard. That is, until Dean took a step towards you.

“Back off!” You yelled, raising the blood-soaked dagger.

“Are you serious?” Dean scoffed. “Hey, I just helped save your life.”

“I’m not going back!” You were starting to look panicked as you backed away from the brothers. “So-so just tell Lady Bevell, or Ketch, or Mick, or whoever recruited you that I’m done! I’m not a part of the Men of Letters, and I never will be!”

“Hey, hey, easy,” Sam soothed. “We’re not Men of Letters.”

“Then how do you know who I am?” You challenged.

“Because of John Winchester.”

Sam’s response froze you in your tracks.

“J…John Winchester?” The dagger was slowly lowering. “You know him? You know where he is?”

The hope in your eyes was like a punch in the gut to both brothers. However, it was gone in an instant and replaced with a harsh suspicion as you raised the knife higher again.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“That’s how we know who you are, kid,” Dean insisted.

“Here—“ Sam’s hand was halfway to his pocket when you pointed your knife at him and he froze. “Easy, ok? I’ll go slow.” He slowly reached in, and you relaxed slightly when he pulled out a small bundle of papers. “We’ve got letters that your mom sent to him, with some pictures.” Sam held them out, and you hesitantly took them, thumbing through the stack while occasionally glancing warily at the boys.

“They stop,” you mumbled.

“What?” Dean asked.

“The letters, they stopped…at least ten years ago.” You looked back up at the boys as you spoke. “Is…is there more, or…”

The despair on the boys’ faces spoke for itself. Your lip was already quivering as you tucked the letters away, still holding onto the knife but keeping it pointed down.

“Is he…is he dead?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “About ten years ago.”

Sam could tell you were trying not to cry, trying to act like they hadn’t just ripped the rug out from under you.

“You know, I—I didn’t even know him—“ your voice cracked. “But I…gosh, I re-I really wanted to.”

You let Dean take the knife from you after he put a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Um, so.” You wiped your hand over your face, trying to brush away any stray tears as you tried valiantly to pull yourself together. “So how did you two…”

“He’s…he’s our dad, too.” Sam said. Your eyes widened slightly as you absorbed this information.

“Wait, you…were you…from his wife?”

“You knew about her?” Dean asked.

“Not really,” you admitted. “John…dad, he…he never liked to talk about his past, but he did mention his wife in one of his letters…he said her death was what made him become a hunter.” Your lips quirked up as you remembered. “He said if I ever saw a yellow-eyed demon, send it to hell for him.” Your eyes went back to Dean and Sam. “Is…is that how he died? Hunting demons?”

“Kind of,” Sam said. “It’s…it’s a long story.”

“What about you?” Dean said suddenly. “If you know Lady Bevell and the rest, and you know they’re here recruiting, then you’ve got something to do with the Men of Letters. Not to mention their insignia on the back of those letters.”

Just the mention of the Men of Letters had you on edge again.

“Maybe we should talk about this at a more secure location,” you suggested. “There’s an old Men of Letters bunker not far from—“ you cut yourself off when you caught the look between the two brothers. “What?”

“We know,” Sam said. “We’ve been living in it.”

Dean noticed your fingers twitch, as if you were thinking about reaching for a weapon.

“And I’m supposed to believe you’re not Men of Letters?”

“Our grandfather was one,” Dean said. “He left us a key.”

You seemed to consider this. Dean watched as your eyes got a faraway look, and he knew you were trying to remember something.

“Mom said that John was from a line of the Men of Letters. It was one of the ways she tried to get him to join.” You shook yourself of the memories. “Fine. I’ll go with you, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”

Dean couldn’t help the way a smile twitched just slightly on his lips before he dropped it.

“Fair enough.”

…

You were quiet the whole way to the bunker, and although your brothers had questions they sensed you were tired and on edge, so they refrained. Dean kept glancing at you in the rearview mirror the whole way, and he was happy to see the way you slowly put your guard down—mostly out of exhaustion—as you relaxed into a light slumber.

You awoke with a start when Dean pulled into the bunker’s garage, the echo of Baby’s engine reverberating loudly.

“Home sweet home,” Dean crowed as you stepped out of the Impala. You didn’t say a word as he led you inside, but the moment the three of you settled down around the kitchen table, you finally started to talk.

“John met my mother on a hunt. She was just visiting America, vacation or something, but she happened to stumble on a case. They met…and well, I came along.” Both brothers noticed you skipping over the details, for which they were grateful. “But while mom was still pregnant she tried to convince dad to join the Men of Letters.” Sam noticed the way you kept switching between dad and John, as if you either weren’t sure what to say, or you weren’t sure what the boys were comfortable with. “He didn’t like the idea, and he didn’t want that for me, either. They fought about it, and mom left the country to go back to England. She was still pregnant…” Dean saw your fists clench and unclench as you blinked rapidly. “Dad, he…he never saw me in person. Any-anyway, she still wrote to him, and she let me read his letters. She said he deserved that much, at least. Dad was always telling me hunter things—I think he was hoping I’d end up a hunter, like him.”

“Why did you?” Sam spoke up. “I mean, if your mother raised you with the Men of Letters…”

“She kept a lot from me,” you said. “The…morally ambiguous parts.” At Dean’s strange look, you scoffed. “Ok, let’s be real, the straight up evil parts.” This got a grin from both brothers. “But she, uh…” the lightheartedness in the room was gone in an instant. “She died last year, and well…people stopped lying to me. I realized all the crap they really did, and I ran.”

“And what, they’re after you?” Dean questioned. “I mean it’s not like the mafia, right, I mean you can just leave.”

You nearly laughed out loud.

“I wish they were as sloppy as the mafia. No, you can’t just leave, especially not me—just because I’m a kid, doesn’t mean I couldn’t have over a decade of Men of Letters’ secrets stored in my brain. That’s why I came here, I…I wanted to find dad. To find family, protection.” You took a deep breath. “I want to be a hunter, not a Man of Letters.”

Dean found himself speaking before he even thought about what to say.

“Why do you have to be either?”

“What?” You said at the same time as Sam. Dean glanced between you before continuing.

“You’re just a kid—you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You don’t have to be either, you could be whatever you want.”

You blinked up at Dean, as though the thought had never occurred to you.

“I…I don’t…”

“Look,” Dean began. “Don’t decide just now. John may not be here, but we’re family too, kid. There’s an empty bedroom down the hall, you should get some sleep, get settled in…then maybe we could talk about this hunting stuff, ok? The important thing is, you’re safe here. Let’s just say we don’t like the British Men of Letters anymore than you do. They’re not getting in here, and they’re not getting to you. Everything else can wait for later.”

You felt a smile—a true smile—etching its way into your face for the first time in so long. You looked up at this man—your big brother—and you couldn’t help but feel that everything was going to be ok. Whether you decided to hunt or not, or whether the Men of Letters came after you, you knew one thing for sure—

You really had found your family.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe

#the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester #supernatural dean #sam winchester #winchesters x sister #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x little sister #sam winchester x little sister #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader

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janeyseymour · 16 days ago

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She Didn't, But Melissa Did- part 2

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4. Part 5. Part 6. Part 7. Part 8. Part 9.

She Didn't, But Melissa Did- Part 1.

Summary: Melissa has always shown up for you, from the start, in ways Millie knows Carrie could never.

WC: ~3k

——

For as much as Melissa did wonders with my momma, that’s only the beginning. What Carrie didn’t do for me, Melissa did that and so much more.

——

“I didn’t do much for you, kid,” the redhead looks to your daughter with a look. “You’re giving me too much credit.”

“You haven’t even started reading,” Millie points out. “Stop talking and just read.”

“When did you get so bossy?” Melissa rolls her eyes playfully.

“Being a mother to a hard headed four year old will do that to you,” your daughter quips.

——

Growing up and adjusting to this new life was an easy transition. I had already lived with Melissa for a months at this point, and that was like a whole lifetime at my young age. The woman that would eventually become my step-mother, and then my mother, showed up for me in the biggest ways, but also in the smallest ways- ways I didn’t even realize she could. A few months into my momma being with Melissa, Momma signed me up for gymnastics class for the first time. I was beyond nervous. But Momma assured me that it would all be fine- it would be good for me. Melissa showed up to the first practice, running into the gymnasium viewing room, after a meeting at her job. My eyes lit up as soon as I saw the red ponytail make its way in. She didn’t have to be there for me, but she was. Carrie wouldn’t have shown up to my first gymnastics class. She probably wouldn’t have even known Momma signed me up until the money came out of the account despite my mother definitely telling her about it. And because Carrie would have only seen the money come out, she would’ve flipped. But Melissa did. Melissa came to every class from that day on. She bought me more leotards and scrunchies than a girl could need. Melissa showed up to every showcase, every meet- cheering me and my teammates on with the same levels of enthusiasm as any other parent. Thinking back on it, it was probably more than what the other parents did- I could pick her voice out among the crowd every time. My Melly was always the loudest one there, cheering as loudly as she could. Carrie would’ve never, but Melissa did. No matter what I did, my Melly was always there.

——

“I’m here!” Melissa came sprinting into the gym. “I’m here!”

“Hun, you didn’t have to rush here,” you chuckled as she settled in next to you, wiping a bead of sweat from her forehead. It was clear she had pretty much run here. “Mill would’ve told you all about it when we got home.”

“And miss her first gymnastics practice?” Melissa scoffed. “Over my dead body, Y/N.”

Millie caught side of the red hair, and her eyes lit up. The slightly nervous body language turned into the bright little girl that you were used to seeing. Her wave was enthusiastic as ever.

When the practice was over, Millie came running out. When you had expected her to come running into your arms with giggles, showing off the stamps on her hands that her teacher had given her, she went right to Melissa- practically tackling her.

“You came!” your daughter squealed.

Melissa hugged your daughter with the same enthusiasm. “Of course I did, Mill! Did you really think I would miss this?”

It was Millie’s first meet- the first time she would ever stand in front of a judge and do her routines. Melissa and you were sitting in the stands as you watched her warm up. Your heart was racing, but you tried to appear calm. The redhead was decked out in team gear and taking pictures of almost every move your little girl was making.

“Mel,” you chuckled softly.

“What?!” Your girlfriend scoffed. “If you think I’m not taking pictures and videos through this whole thing, you’re fuckin’ crazy.”

“Melissa,” you scolded her quietly. “We are at a children’s gymnastics competition. Watch your mouth please. I don’t want to get kicked out of the first one.”

“If you think I’m not taking pictures and videos through this whole thing, you’re freakin’ crazy. Better?”

“I’ll take what I can get,” you rolled your eyes as you pecked her cheek.

You were a nervous wreck any time that your daughter was on any of the apparatuses. Melissa was all grins, and she was so proud to announce that Millie was her girlfriend’s daughter whenever she’s finished. Millie ended up winning, standing on the top platform of the podium with medals around her neck, a trophy in her hand, and a dazzling smile on her face. She made eye contact with you, and then with Melissa.

When your daughter was finally allowed to make her way over to you, she came barreling into your arms. It was warm, and it was perfect. And then she was in your girlfriend’s arms, and Melissa told her how proud she was of her- how she was a great athlete, but more importantly she was a great sport to her teammates and the other competitors.

“You should be so proud of yourself,” Melissa had whispered to your little girl, doting a few kisses to the top of her head.

“I am,” Millie replied. “But I’m hungry. Can we go home?”

“Yeah, baby,” you chuckled. “Why don’t we grab some food on the way back?”

Your little girl shrugged. “I’d rather have Melly’s cooking.”

For the rest of your daughter’s gymnastics career, it became tradition for the three of you to go home and enjoy some of the redhead’s cooking.

——

“Those were… I do not miss almost having a heart attack every competition,” you chuckle softly.

“You’re so dramatic, Momma,” Millie tells you. “I was perfectly fine. Never even got hurt.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you protest. “You just wait ’til Hadley starts doing more than cartwheels and forward rolls, and then come talk to me.”

“Would you quit talking?” your wife groans. “I wanna keep reading about how great I am,” she adds in a singsong voice.

You roll your eyes, but you lean into her touch again and begin to read the next page.

——

When I was ten, I was hellbent on getting a pet. Carrie never fathomed the idea of having a pet in our house, but Melissa was open to it because I wanted one. She didn’t necessarily want one, claimed that she would be the one to have to take care of it in the end. Momma wasn’t too keen on the idea either. Still, on a day where Melly and I had off school and Momma was at work, Melissa took me down to the pet store. We left hand in hand giggling about the fact that we had just bought a guinea pig that we both absolutely fell in love with. Momma wasn’t too happy to see that we had gone behind her back and adopted an animal without talking to her first, but when she saw how excited we were, she couldn’t resist. Melissa and I adored Sweet Cheeks (yes, that was my guinea pig’s name). We spent hours building him a hut from popsicle sticks, laughing until we were red in the face when I accidentally glued my fingers together. We used to practice my reading with him. Having him in either one of our arms at any given time was the usual. Carrie would’ve never. She would’ve called that thing a rat- would’ve insisted that we get rid of it had Momma and I brought Sweet Cheeks into the house. But Melissa did.

——

“We had that thing for years,” you mumble. “I swear, the two of you were more excited to see Sweet Cheeks than you were me.”

“Could you blame us?” Millie giggles as she leans over her daughter to kiss your cheek.

You gasp, affronted. “Amelia!”

“Had’s the same way with our dog,” Noah promises you. “Don’t take it personally.”

——

When I was eleven, my momma and Melissa got engaged. She even asked me, a silly little eleven year old, for my blessing. And while we had planned how she would propose, Melly blew it the night we got the ring at dinner. Still, it was the perfect proposal.

——

“Millie!” Melissa knocked on your daughter’s bedroom door gently as she pushed it open. “Can we talk?”

“Am I in trouble?”

“No,” the redhead chuckled. “Why do you always think you’re in trouble when you don’t do nothin’ wrong?”

Millie shrugged. “What’s up?”

“I have a serious question for you,” Melissa sighed as she sat on the bed. “You know… your momma and I have been dating for a little bit now.”

“Yeah?”

“And I was wondering… if you wouldn’t mind if I asked her to marry me?”

Millie’s froze for a few seconds before all but launching herself at your girlfriend. “Really?”

“Really,” Melissa smiled. “I- I love your momma, and I love you, and I- I think it’s time we make it official.”

“Ask her. Do it. She’ll say yes.”

It was a week later that Melissa took Millie out for a girls day over the weekend. You were not invited- they were ring shopping.

Three stores and eight thousand dollars later, your girlfriend and daughter came home from their day out. You were settled in on the couch, a book in your hands.

Upon hearing the front door open, you closed your book and prepared for Millie to come flying in. She did exactly that, tackling you in a hug.

“Did you two have a good girls day?” you chuckled.

Melissa nodded as she made her way over to you, leaning down to kiss you softly. “Kid had the time of her life at the arcade.” A lie, but you fell for it- the redhead would take your daughter to an arcade.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Well, I’m going to start dinner,” Melissa told you. “I hope you’ll join me.”

The three of you made dinner together in the same warmth that you always did- always light, always full of laughter and joy.

But then you sat for your meal, and the redhead began to squirm in her seat. The thought of not being engaged to you was driving her crazy, and the ring box felt like it was burning a hole in her pocket.

“You okay?” you furrowed your brows, concerned for your girlfriend.

The redhead bit her lip, mumbled a soft apology to your daughter, and then dropped to one knee right then and there.

“Melissa, what are you doing?” you gasped, not quite catching on yet. “Did you just- are you okay?”

The teacher pulled the ring box out of her pocket, opened it, and took a deep breath. “Y/N, I was gonna wait to do this at dinner tomorrow with Barb and Ger here, but I- I can’t wait.”

“Melissa,” you whispered, and your eyes began to cloud with tears.

“Y/N,” your girlfriend started. “I am so… deeply in love with you, in love with the family we forged, in love with the life we live. I don’t ever want to lose it, you, or Millie. Will you marry me?”

——

“I still can’t believe you couldn’t hold out one more day,” Millie quips. “I mean, how hard would it have been to wait another twenty four hours?”

“Hey,” your son in-law interjects. “I was the same way with proposing to you, and you loved it.”

“Because that’s us… this is my parents we’re talking about.”

“We never did anythin’ conventional; why would our proposal have been?” your wife teases.

——

When I was twelve, they got married. I still never thought I would call Melissa ‘Mom’. She would just always be my Melly. When I was also twelve, Melly asked me if she could adopt me as her own. As a child who grew up with a mother who hadn’t ever wanted her, to know that someone loved you so much to want to be able to claim you as their own… it’s an overwhelming feeling. I of course accepted her proposition, but I also made her very aware of the fact that I would probably never call her ‘Mom’. I thought that maybe with my insistence that I would never call her mom, despite the legal title she would now hold, she would turn on me. She never did. She was still Melly- always there for me in any way she could be.

——

“I can’t believe you ever thought I would turn on you,” Melissa nudges your daughter. “As if I hadn’t already thought of you as my daughter and had for years at that point.”

“I was twelve, Ma,” Millie reminds your wife. “I was vulnerable.”

——

When I was a freshman in high school, Melly was there for me. For God’s sake, she put together my bouquet. Momma helped, but Melly really outdid herself. And when we all were lining up for pictures at the house, there was Melly, front and center, acting like the paparazzi. Carrie would've never let my friends step foot into our house. But Melissa did- she encouraged them to come over because she knew it would make me happy. When I was fifteen, she caught me sneaking back into the house. She was absolutely furious- and she should’ve been. But where my biological mother, had she still been in my life, probably would’ve whooped my stupid ass, Melly pulled me into a tight hug, looked up to the ceiling, and thanked God that I was safe. When I was sixteen, I had my first heartbreak. Carrie would’ve told me I was lucky to have love in the first place- that I was an unlovable, spoiled brat. She told Momma that nobody would ever love her except her, because Momma was a broken woman. And Momma, for as wonderful as she is, had a hard time dealing with it. It absolutely shattered her soul to see me so broken. Momma did what she could to be there for me, but ultimately, I knew this was an issue I would go to Melly over- seeing my momma so upset was heartbreaking for me. But Melissa, she was there for me. She laid in bed with me, held me while I cried, watched terrible romance movies with me, had Ben and Jerry’s lining the freezer. That was the first time I ever called her by a title other than ‘Melissa’ or ‘Melly’. In that moment, she was ‘Ma’- a title that would become her own.

——

“Mill,” Melissa whispered upon seeing your daughter with red, swollen eyes and curled up in a mess of blankets.

“I’m fine, Melly,” Millie grumbled, not bothering to look at her mother.

Your wife just gave her a pointed look. “Mills, it’s just me. Momma is… sitting outside on the porch right now.”

The blonde bit her lip and finally glanced over to the redhead. “I- I can’t believe he cheated on me.”

“Kiddo, you just say the word, and I’ll have my-”

“I don’t need your cousin beating up my ex.”

“Then what do you need?”

Millie sighed a heavy sigh. “To be told that this sucks, and to cry. Maybe ice cream.”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m way ahead of you. Should I get Sweet Cheeks to sit with us?” Melissa offered as she turned towards the hall.

“Yeah.”

The teacher just gave a sad smile before heading out to where you were sitting on the front porch.

“Hey,” you say quietly. “How’s Mill?”

“I’m gonna be in with her and Sweet Cheeks for a while,” Melissa relayed. “You gonna be okay on your own for tonight?”

You glanced up and looked into those green eyes you had grown so fond of. “Yeah.”

“Okay, honey. I believe you.” She made her way further out onto the porch, just enough to cup your cheek gently in her hand. She pressed a sweet kiss to your lips before wiping away a tear with the pad of her thumb. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered. “Thank you for being there for Mill when I can’t.”

The redhead gave you a knowing nod. “She understands this is hard for you- especially with the cheating and your past.”

Then, she was off to the kitchen, grabbing a pint of ice cream and two spoons before heading for the beloved pet of the family and back to your daughter.

Hours later, Sweet Cheeks having been put back in his cage after the first movie, Millie and Melissa sat together in silence as yet another movie droned on.

“Thank you,” Millie whispered softly as she tightened her hold on your wife.

The teacher just dropped a kiss to her forehead. “You know I’m always here for you, Mills.”

“I know,” your daughter breathed out quietly as she rested her head on Melissa’s shoulder. “Thanks. I love you, Ma.”

——

“You know, you callin’ me ‘Ma’ for the first time? It was the best moment of my life.” Melissa’s eyes go soft. “I wish it had been a better circumstance, but… wow.”

“That was the best moment of your life?” you raise a brow. “Not, you know… marrying me?”

“Babe, you know being called ‘Ma’ was the best feeling for me.”

“You know if you never married me, you would never have been given that title in the first place,” you point out, pushing her hand off your leg.

Your wife just shrugs, a twinkle in her eye.

“Melissa Ann,” you pretend to scold gently.

“I love you,” she promises you as she pulls you in for a gentle kiss. Then she turns her head in the direction of the kitchen. “I gotta check on the chili. Give me five minutes, but then I’m sure there’s more than this?”

Millie just chuckles and pulls more papers from her bag. “Go, Ma. It’ll be here when you’re ready.”

Your wife pulls Hadley from your lap and settles her on her hip before heading into the kitchen.

All you can do is look at your daughter with a proud smile.

“Mill, this is… fantastic writing. One of my favorite pieces that you’ve done.”

“Ma deserves to know that she’s somethin’ special.”

——

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson

#abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfic #abbott elementary fanfiction #melissa schemmenti fanfiction #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti

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aerinaga · 5 months ago

Note

Ok, so idk if you've seen it or not, but it was a live that I believe KK did where paige did a cartwheel, and I was thinking of something with a gymnast reader and you teach Paige how to do gymnastic or Paige goes to one of your competitions.

queen of flexibility!

paige bueckers x gymnast!reader

warnings: none

synopsis: paige attends your competition

today was just another day, another competition typa thang for you. you woke up early today to get ready for your competition. leotard, makeup, and hair MUST always be on fleek.

you’ve won multiple gold medals already, but there are times where you still get humbled. gymnastics isn’t just about flexibility, its also about gracefulness of ones figure. sticking with gymnastics since you were 6 helped a lot with how you moved your body.

your body was muscular, so admirable.

paige was still asleep on your bed, hearing her soft breathes made you giggle. how cute.

you didn’t bother waking her up, you knew she always has her alarms set. you were too busy fixing yourself up to even care.

you were zoning out at your bathroom mirror, but your mind was cut off by a wrap of toned veiny arms around your waist. her hot breaths on your neck made you feel heat around your body.

“good morning, baby. looking beautiful always.”

“good morning, paigeyboo. you should start getting ready ok? we leave in an hour.”

“yes, princess.” gosh that nickname made you weak.

the both of you arrived at the venue, paige went off to find a seat. you were with your coach, warming up and briefing of what the flow of events will be. your schedule for today was: floor, bars, and vault.

you were nervous about the vault, since its your weakest competition. bars were your favorite, rolling around the bars were your favorite thing to do. floor was okay to you, no cons.

you’ve finished with vault and bars. you knew you were gonna hit it good with your floor routine. floor routines made you feel free, open, and happy. its just like being in a playground.

as you finished, you hear paige and other audience clap at you. the “audience” was the uconn wbb team. you wouldn’t know if you should feel embarrassed. regardless, you were so grateful for them.

as they announced your scores, you were shaking.

“l/n y/n, 9.3 in floor, 9.5 in bars, and 9.0 in vault. you are rewarded with a gold medal once again! congratulations.”

you jumped from your spot, rushing to receive your medal.

you can hear kk screaming, you turn to look at them and give a big smile. they were all cheering and clapping. they were proud proud proud.

after you took pictures with the other medalists, you rush to paige and jump on her. she makes sure to catch you.

“you did it baby, thats my girl.” paige gives you a kiss on your cheek, her smile is so bright. it makes your heart melt.

you got off of paige, you greeted the team. they all took pics with you, congratulating you. this is the best part of competitions. you always have a support team.

“GIRL YOU DID SO GOOD OUT THERE”

“i could never, i think i’d end up breaking a bone.”

“THATS OUR GIRL Y’ALL! BEAT THAT!”

you feel embarrassed by how loud you guys were, you kept receiving looks. they’re probably just jealous because the team of hotties were supporting you.

“EVERYONE, THATS THE QUEEN OF FLEXIBILITY!” KK shouts out loud, earning laughs and giggles from strangers. they all clap for you, and once again, you bow gracefully.

you hear paige whisper to your ear.

“i’m so proud of you, my love. you always do so great. i’m forever your fangirl. i love you so much.”

you blush at her comment, giving her a big and warm hug.

a celebration calls for something spicy right? thats what you’re looking forward to when you get home.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb

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mermaidgirl30 · 3 months ago

Text

✨Somersaults and Stealing Hearts Part 1: Meeting the Coach✨

Coach! Joel Miller x gymnast! OFC

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @lotusbxtch and @alltheirdamn for beta reading for me, and for @mountainsandmayhem for helping hype me up! I’m really excited about this one ✨

Summary: Welcoming a new coach is no easy task, especially when Joel Miller steps through those doors with his stupid tousled curls and dark brown eyes.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.2k

Tags: Eventual smut, enemies to lovers type energy, bitter OFC, a hint of swooning, age gap (Madison is 24, Joel is 39), slow burn, pre!outbreak au

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Sunlight bursts through the glass windows of the Austin Gymnastics Club as chalk and sweat permeate through the air of the heated gym. The long balance beams seem to shine in the distance, and the white walls with gold medals and trophies in glass cases fill the extensive space. My calloused fingers are numb from the lengthy bar routine I just finished, and my lower back burns from the shaky dismount. I take a moment to breathe deep and fill my lungs with icy water, letting the chill cool the ache of fiery lungs.

Breathe in, breathe out. Focus on deep breaths. Don’t think about the heartbreaking loss that’s about to happen.

When I open my glossy eyes, I take a minute to compose myself. Losing Coach Carr is near devastating when regionals are in a little less than two months. How the fuck am I supposed to be ready when we’re getting a brand new coach who doesn’t know a thing about our routines or training schedule?

Ripping the water bottle from my tight grip, I find my way back onto the blue spring floor and decide to stretch my sore triceps. Wincing in pain, I groan, extending my arms overhead, feeling as if my muscles will split in half at any moment, but I’m used to it. It’s just part of a gymnast’s daily routine. No pain, no gain.

Senior year. Only a little over three months until I’m graduating with a bachelor’s degree in Kinesiology. Granted, I opted for online classes to focus on what’s really important. Gymnastics. It’s what I breathe, all I can think about day after day, and I won’t stop until I qualify for the Olympics. And Coach Carr should’ve been the one to help me get there, but those dreams were crushed like sand beneath the soles of my feet. Go figure. Nothing ever went my way. Especially after I lost my dad…

Having to take a whole year off training and college was rough enough. And close to being twenty-five-years-old? Well, some of the girls still tortured me about it, whispering how I was too old, how I’d never make it. But they were wrong, and I’d prove it.

If they were gentle sheep, then I was a starving wolf. Out for blood.

Another deep sigh leaves my lips, and my shiny pink leotard feels extremely tight, almost like it’s squeezing the breath right out of my lungs. In the next moment, someone is hip checking me, and I almost topple over onto the mat from the unwelcome force. I glare in the direction of where the uncalled action came from, but I immediately drop my frown when I see it’s just my best friend, Cassie.

“Whoa, did you wake up on the wrong side of bed this morning? You’re awfully cranky,” she laughs as she presses down some dark flyaways from her tight bun and smoothes out her violet leotard with the back of her palms.

“Sorry,” I grumble, letting my arms fall down to my sides in defeat. “I’m just on edge today with Coach Carr leaving.”

Cassie blinks twice and looks up with sympathetic emerald eyes. “I know. I’m upset too, but what can we do? She’s already leaving, we can’t stop her now.”

“Yeah, but why didn’t she at least wait until after regionals? You know how important that competition is. If we want to go to the national championships, then we have to bring our A-game,” I huff, stomping my heel into the squishy floor just to show how frustrated I am.

“Ask her husband, he’s the one that got the new job in Denver. Maybe you can talk him into letting his wife stay just for you,” she laughs, pushing against my shoulder playfully to try to get me to lighten up, but it doesn’t work. “And it’s you, babe. You want to go to nationals, and you want to win that championship title. I’m just here to ride it out with you. You’ve got the heart of a lion in this gym. No way you aren’t getting that gold medal,” she says encouragingly.

I give her a fake smile and hip check her right back. “Says the girl who medaled at our last competition. You’re going with me, and that’s final,” I smile.

“We’ll see about that,” she says with bright green eyes.

The room lightens up a little bit as Cassie pulls some of the anger from my tense body, but it all comes crashing back down like shattering like glass the moment I see Coach Carr’s bubbly smile and long blonde hair swaying as she greets a man I don’t recognize by the glass door.

I tip my head to the side and squint, hoping to get a better view of the mystery man with the tight-fitting white t-shirt and dark jeans that hug strong legs. “Who’s that?” I ask, hoping Cassie will have a clue as to who that might be.

“I think that’s our new coach. Joel Miller,” she says, peeling her eyes over his broad body.

“Who is he?” My voice comes out quieter, like I almost don’t want to know. Coach Carr never said anything about a male coach, and she definitely didn’t mention that he’d be older and so… handsome.

“Not too sure, but I’ve been hearing the other coaches talk lately. Heard he took his prior team all the way to nationals,” she voices, making my ears perk up at that.

My eyes grow a little wider, and my back stiffens up at the mentions of nationals. “Nationals, huh? Then why isn’t he still there with that team?” Raising an eyebrow in curiosity, I try to study the tall man, as if I can see inside his mind.

“Not sure,” she shrugs. “Guess he heard we were the best, and maybe it’s a better paid position? I don’t know, but Jesus. Do you see the biceps on that man? He’s hot. Maybe he can help me stretch… if you know what I mean,” she winks, curling a loose strand behind her ear as her eyes go starry.

Oh, for the love of God.

“Cas, stop. You’re being gross.” I scrunch my nose in disgust and hit her lightly in the side of the shoulder.

“What? Like you don’t find him attractive? He’s ridiculously good looking. Just look at him,” she sighs dreamily, her eyes sparkling from the sunlight peeking through the windows.

But I am looking at him. And whether I like it or not, he’s walking straight up to the spring floor with Coach Carr right at his heels, and he’s not too far from where I’m standing.

When he’s only a mere few feet from me, I notice how his biceps hug the soft fabric of his t-shirt and large veins spiral down his thick forearms, spidering along the backs of his rough hands, ending in strong fingers. I gulp when I see how devastating his dark brown eyes are. They’re almost like pure marble, smooth enough to sink into. And his hair. Thick, sandy brown with speckles of gray threading through his lush locks and his clipped beard. Cassie was right; he’s breathtaking.

“Fuck yeah, bestie. He’s taking us all the way to nationals,” she whispers as a fit of giggles leave her pink lips.

I roll my eyes and seal my mouth shut, but I can’t help but keep sneaking secret glances at the man with pretty eyes. Cassie doesn’t need her big ego boosted to know she’s right. He is good looking, really good looking. But that doesn’t mean I’ll accept him here. Coach Carr is abandoning me right when I need her most. She was supposed to be there for regionals which would set me up for nationals. No way will I just accept a stranger, like he knows anything about my routines or moves. No. I’ll just give him the cold shoulder because I’m bitter about this whole stupid arrangement.

“Girls, gather around! I’d like for you to meet someone.” She gestures to the mystery man and beams her white smile to the entire room. The rest of the gymnasts take their place on the spring floor and glance with anticipation at the newcomer. “This has been a super hard decision for me to leave you all, but I did my best to make sure you’ll be in good hands. So, girls, I’d like you to meet your new coach, Joel Miller.”

All the girls’ eyes blow wide, and whispers flit around the room, echoing giggles and gossip that makes me silently groan. Some of them bat their long lashes, some fix their high ponytails and twirl the hair they can reach. Others just stare and gawk, letting their eyes roam the expanse of his broad body, and my stomach drops when I realize all my teammates are going to be swooning over our new coach.

I let my eyes rake over the spongy floor, dragging my heel over a piece of fuzz like it’ll get me out of this awkward situation. I don’t want a new coach, especially one that all the girls won’t stop talking about.

“Now, you might’ve not heard of him before, but he’s coached a few varsity teams, and he even took the Oklahoma Sooners all the way to nationals, which I know is a dream for most of you,” she says proudly, her chin held high as some of the girls gasp and drop their jaws to the floor.

Great. Now I’ll have to hear their stupid lovesick mouths drag on about how handsome and talented he is. Give me a fucking break.

“Nationals? I want to go to nationals!” One of the girls shouts as she jumps up and down frantically, only stopping when Coach Carr tells her to settle down.

“As do most of you, and I’m sure Coach Miller here will do just that,” she smiles wide, letting her long blonde hair fall over her light blue polo shirt. Joel sheepishly smiles and follows Coach Carr’s lead. “Okay, well let me go around the room and introduce you to all the girls. There’s quite a bit,” she laughs, glancing at me and the other eleven gymnasts.

As she makes her way around the room slowly, I can’t help but tune the room out, making a small bubble in my mind where only my thoughts start to tick like the hanging clock above the front glass doors.

You can do this, just breathe. Don’t freak out, you’re only losing your most favorite coach in the entire world. I bite my lower lip and feel the sharp pain sink into my skin.

Breathe.

Just when I start to fade off into the soft blue tones in my mind, I hear my name being called loud and clear across the open room. I snap my eyes up frantically when Coach Carr says my name again. “And this is our shining star right here, Madison Summers. She’s the best of the best,” she smiles proudly, like I’ve just won her the gold medal.

Joel shifts his weight to the left and folds his flexed arms over his broad chest, and I swear he’s about to rip right through that thin t-shirt. “Your shining star, s’that right?” he asks with a thick Southern drawl that floats through my eardrums like a sweet melody.

Fuck. Even his voice is charming. All deep and gravelly and annoyingly enthralling. It’s about to give me a damn headache at this rate.

“Oh, yes,” she replies brazenly. “This girl right here has been bringing us home with first place titles since she started here. She’s the real deal, Miller. I think she might even take you all the way to nationals. Keep her on her toes.” She claps him on the back firmly, and a slow smile expands across his plush mouth, framing his dark mustache. His brown eyes flick over my body slowly like he’s assessing every single inch of me to make sure it’s true, and he parts his mouth like he wants to say something.

Letting my hazel eyes fall to the ground, I adjust my position and keep my arms locked tight around my chest. Maybe I can hide from the red blush that’s building in my cheeks because now all the girls are staring at me with envy, and I despise being the center of attention.

When the sting of embarrassment starts to fade away, I hear him clear his throat. “Impressive. Guess we’ll jus’ have to see ‘bout nationals then. See jus’ what you bring to the floor, Shining Star,” he murmurs with a light voice that spouts off that deep, gravelly tone that makes my insides clench.

Shining Star. The nickname makes the little light blonde hairs on my neck stand straight up and has my crimson cheeks flushed. He needs to stop.

I slowly lift my chin, and then my eyes meet his straight on. Butterflies flit through the pit of my stomach for just a second when his amber colored irises stay locked on mine. He gives me a once over, one eyebrow lifted as if I’ve piqued his interest, and that’s the last thing I want to be right now because these girls will give me hell about it.

Averting my eyes back to the floor to escape that growing tension in the air, I listen to Coach Carr go on about how she’s letting Joel take the reins. I can still feel his dark eyes honing in on me, and the room suddenly feels like the Texas summer heat, stifling and insufferable. I don’t care what it takes, but I will not think of Coach Miller as anything other than my coach. He may be handsome as hell, but there’s no way I’m going to simp like a lovesick puppy over him like every other girl in this gym.

Katelyn’s piercing blue eyes find mine in an instant when I finally find the strength to look up. Her painted red lips are pursed, and her high cheekbones look like they could cut straight through glass with the way she’s glaring. Her too-tight, sparkly white leotard shows off her curvy figure, and I know she’s already jealous of the attention I’m getting.

Great. Just great. That’s the last thing I wanted to happen. She already hates my guts; why did Coach Carr have to make it worse?

I concentrate back on the fabric of the ocean blue floor and pray it’ll swallow me whole. Cassie places a comforting palm on my shoulder and nudges me to see if I’m alright. I give her a tight-lipped smile and again pretend. So much for not feeling overwhelmed and anxious today.

Joel’s voice booms through the room, and my hesitant eyes slowly shift back up to him as he paces the floor and looks out to the sea of eager gymnasts. “Alright, ladies. Coach Carr here has given me a rundown of some of your routines, but I’d like to jus’ walk around the room today and get a feel for them and how your practices usually go. She was kind enough to let me scope the team out a few weeks ago. And I will say, I was very impressed. Some more than others.” His eyes shift to find mine, and I suddenly feel like a deer in the headlights. Blindsighted and paralyzed. He’ll surely collide right into me at the worst possible time when I don’t even see him coming.

He’s been at practice before? He’s watched me specifically? Oh, shit.

Some of the other girls giggle, but I stand frozen like a mouse caught in a trap. How can Coach Carr leave me alone with him? He’ll have me losing my balance over a simple split jump on the balance beam. But I won’t let that happen. Not a chance because I’m going to ice him out, just like I planned to do before I even knew he’d be the new coach.

“Okay, girls. I do have to get going, I'm afraid, but please be respectful to Coach Miller. He is a very good coach, and I expect you all to be on your best behaviors.” She gives all the girls a knowing look that says don’t test her, and then she makes her way over to me as some of the girls disperse around the gym.

“Ahh, my favorite athlete,” she smiles as she pulls me in for a tight squeeze. I breathe in her lemon perfume and memorize what it feels like to be embraced by her because I won’t have any more warm hugs after this. I’ll only have rough hands that maybe high five me for landing a double tuck on the mat, if that.

I squeeze her right back and hold on for dear life. “Please, don’t go. I need you,” I whine, afraid tears might run down my cheeks when I watch her walk out that door one last time.

“I’m sorry. Truly, I am. I hate leaving you, but you know I’ll be there for Regionals.” She gathers my hands in hers and squeezes gently. I feel the sting of fresh tears in the back of my eyes, and they start to gloss over.

“Hey, now,” she reassures me. “You’re going to be just fine without me. You have a great coach to take over my spot now.” She smiles warmly, but it doesn’t quite meet her bright blue eyes.

“But it’s not you. You promised to take me all the way to Nationals,” I pout, letting my bottom lip jut out as a cold tear slips free.

“Hey, no tears now. Everything will be okay. And I know I promised, but marriage and Eric’s new job just got in the way. I can’t tell you how sorry I truly am, but I still believe in you. You’ve got this, and Joel will take you to Nationals. I know he will.”

My eyes flick to him subtly, and I huff out a long sigh as my eyes start to narrow into thin slits. Joel wouldn’t take me to nationals. It was never his job to, and I sure as hell don’t want to put my faith in a new coach I know almost nothing about. I don’t care how good looking he is; he’s not my coach.

Coach Carr quickly picks up on my building anger and irritation to the whole situation, so she steers me back to look her dead in the eyes. “Hey, be nice. I don’t want you giving him trouble just because you’re upset,” she warns with a stern look written over her serious face.

“Who said I was going to give him trouble?” I scoff, kicking my heel into the blue padding of the floor like that will do me any good.

“Madison Summers!” She says my full name sharply like a mother would when their child is getting scolded, and her grip tightens on my hands. “Now, I know you very well. And I know when you’re upset. You can be upset with me, but please don’t take it out on him. He’s only here to help you reach your dreams, and I have no doubt that he’ll do just that. So give him a chance, for my sake. I wouldn’t leave you to someone I didn’t trust.”

I bite my lower lip and nod, turning my gaze back to Joel as he focuses on Giselle’s uneven bar routine, watching the way her sparkly red leotard shimmers in the glistening sunlight that melts through the glass windows. Sighing heavily, I agree to obey her wishes, “Okay, I guess I can try to play nice.”

She gives me a quick hug and squeezes tightly. “That’s my girl.” I let the warm comfort envelop me fully, remembering the scent of spearmint gum and lemon perfume. A smell I’ll soon only remember in my fading memory.

With one more hug, she sends her best wishes to me and says goodbye to the other girls, and then she’s just gone. A vacant ghost that’s disappeared into her new life.

A life that I won’t be in.

I watch the glass window like she’ll come back, like she was just kidding about leaving the entire time, but every second the clock ticks tells me she’s gone. And now I have to suffer without her. First it was my dad, now my favorite coach…

Dragging my feet on the thick carpet, I hold my head high and decide to focus on my balance beam routine today. I’ve been struggling with sticking my landings lately, and I need to focus.

Blocking out all the blaring music in the gym, I pull my head together and spend the next couple of hours perfecting my routine. Firm arms, chin up, jump high, dazzle the crowd, smile. But it’s hard faking a smile when my favorite coach just left me in the dust to deal with him. Coach Miller, the bane of my existence.

Pushing him clear out of my mind, I find my center and complete a back handspring, back tuck combination, throwing all my rolling emotions into quick motions. I think I have it but when I land, I find that I nearly get knocked off my center and almost go crashing down to the blue mat that sits beneath me.

Shit. Almost had it.

“Tuck your knees and point your toes harder.” The deep voice nearly takes me over the edge of the chalky beam.

“What?” I whisper out, looking up under my thick lashes, right at Joel fucking Miller.

“Tuck your knees more next time. It’ll speed up your rotation, and you’ll land solid. Pointin’ your toes harder will give you quicker and sharper movements. And remember, presentation is everything.” He leans against the white wall steadily, right next to one of the chalk stands and carelessly taps his index finger against his tanned forearm.

“My rotation was just fine,” I sneer.

“Could be quicker,” he defaults back quickly.

“I was quick enough,” I snap.

“Is that why you almost fell after your back tuck?” He tilts his head and gives me a contemplative look that dares me to challenge him. I bite my tongue in response and stare right into his big brown eyes, not saying a word.

God. Those fucking eyes.

“Jus’ try again,” he presses, his eyes fixed on me. I purse my lips and dig my hands into my hips, standing my ground as the balance beam becomes my rock. I don’t want to try again. At least not when he’s looking and has his eyes glued on every single move I make. I could’ve figured it out on my own how to perfect my landing.I don’t need him.

“I don’t got all day. The clock’s tickin’.” He points to the black military style watch on his left wrist and keeps his large arms glued across his chest, his thick eyebrows threading together like he expects me to fire off another sharp response.

I huff and get back into position, my toes pointed and resting right on the edge. I take one quick glance his way and then jolt my body backwards. With my toes pointed hard, almost sharp as a pencil, I flip into a back handspring, my fingers meeting the beam for just a second, and then I jump hard and high. Making sure to tuck my knees deeper into my chest, I flip into a back tuck easily. Every rotation seems sharper and faster, much better than the sluggish one I just did before. And before I know it, I’m landing perfectly on the balance beam, not even a single wobble flows through my body as I stick the landing.

Joel’s eyebrows raise, and the hint of a proud smirk shadows his mouth. I want to wipe that stupid smirk off his face because I know just what he’s thinking. He was right all along. “What’d I tell ya? Perfect landin’. Maybe you should listen to me after all, huh? Think I might know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout.”

I roll my eyes and cross my arms firmly over my chest, standing with full attention on the balance beam. “I could’ve figured it out on my own.”

“You’re a stubborn thing, ain’t ya?” he chuckles, shaking his head as silver threads and sandy brown curls tousle with every movement he makes. His eyes are basically milk chocolate, the way they glitter in the sunlight when he’s laughing. And I fucking hate it.

“Apparently,” I shrug, giving him a stern look while I lick my tongue against my bottom teeth aggressively.

“We’ll jus’ have to work on that then, won’t we?” He tips his head my way and pushes off the wall, flexing his rock hard biceps as he waltzes away with a stupid grin spread across his mouth.

I clench my fists at my sides and dig my heels into the firm balance beam, trying my best to keep my wits about me. Stupid Coach Miller and his sly remarks.

Stubborn thing, ain’t ya. I scoff at the statement. Of course I’m stubborn. If he thinks he’ll get on my good side and tear down my walls then he’s sadly mistaken. I won’t budge. No. I’ll just have to show him how much more stubborn I can be.

This isn’t his gym. This is mine. And I plan to make that very clear.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x oc #Joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller x ofc #joel miller x original character #joel miller fan fiction #coach! Joel #gymnastics au #no outbreak au #pre outbreak!joel

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silverflqmes · 8 months ago

Note

hihi ellie ! i was wondering if i could request hcs with sugawara with a gymnast!reader (self projecting but i wanna see what ur thoughts on it are like <3) gn please <3 love u lots /p

໒⦂ 𝐆𝐘𝐌𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐂𝐒.

notes. hi hi luma, my memories of gymnastics and terms has diminished over the years bc i stopped at a young age, but i’ll try my best with this🫡

genre. fluff + crack

for @kurolumiis <3

koshi sugawara x gn!reader.

⌗ sugawara definitely finds a way of balancing volleyball along with attending your meets ( i think this is the term.. )

⌗ loves to see you in your leotards all dressed up and sparkling, you’re like a shining star to him, certainly under the glow of the stadium lights<3

⌗ either made or purchased good luck charms for you to keep with you at any competitions you might have, especially if he cannot be there himself — but he tries his best to be!

⌗ should he have the time, he gets up extra early and prepares a nice meal for you to take with you if it’s an away tournament that he can’t attend, how sweet<3

⌗ your number one cheerleader!! i mean, have you seen him in the scene where he was like YAMAGUUUUCH, IPPON NICE SERVE!! yeah that’s him but cheering you on instead.. minus volleyball terms BUT DOES THAT SILLY MAGICAL GIRL POSE LMAO

⌗ he’s so proud of you out there he’s like YES THAT’S MY BABY OUT THERE SLAYING THE COMPETITION!! while holding a camera and recording BAH

⌗ helps you stretch if you’re sore and spots you if you’re practicing after hours and you don’t have someone to catch your limbs or prevent you from getting hurt in any way

⌗ SHOULD you get hurt, however, he’s got the first aid kit ready and you will likely get scolded for not being careful but it’s just him being worried about you cuz he doesn’t like seeing you hurt</3

⌗ loves when you attend his games, even if he isn’t on court 100% of the time, but y’know, appreciates it nonetheless cuz it displays you care for his interests as much as he does for yours

⌗ there was a leotard once that you were eyeing but was a little ( a lot ) out of your price range.. you had wanted it for your nationals, too, since you had gotten in — so sugawara surprised you with a nicely wrapped box once the results were in that you would be going, and it was none other than the leotard you were eyeing that day<3

⌗ out of curiosity, he asked you one day to teach him some things — i mean, the man can jump so high?? it’d be a shame not to try some stuff out..

⌗ and so you agreed to his request, finding it silly that he wanted to try what you do

⌗ it was safe to say that it was easier watching than actually doing.. and that trampolines made stunts MUCH EASIER THAN GYM MATS DID.

⌗ koshi still managed to do something from what you taught him, and albeit it a stunt as simplistic as running into a cartwheel going into a front handspring — it still warmed your heart that he took interest in what you do

⌗ it was also funny at times to hear him yelp cuz he was literally upside down for some things you had him try out LMAO

⌗ in return, after doing some much needed stretches to not have his body absolutely destroyed for practice the next morning, you had offered to try out his volleyball drills.

⌗ how hard could spiking be? ( if you’re short like me and aren’t the highest jumper — hard. but not as hard as blocking😵‍💫 although with timing it’s not as difficult.. )

⌗ it wasn’t as easy as it appeared from a distance, but it was still fun to do! a few sets later it would become a little more easier, and sugawara tossed in a way that was feasible enough for you to hit

⌗ brings you flowers on every competition, whether you win or lose he still brings them because you did really well out there regardless or the results!

⌗ just as he cheered for you during your meets, of course you also cheered for him during his like duh?? anytime he felt himself growing nervous — or the odds of winning had become close to zero, there you were lighting up his way<3

notes. that went a lot quicker than expected, i forget how easy hcs are LMAO but i hope you enjoyed luma<3 hearts to you from me /p and sugawara<3

↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask

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napakmahal · 5 months ago

Text

Strength Training

Tadashi x college gymnast! Reader

Kinda been a while since I did a full Tadashi one shot.

You’ve been dreading this next meet. How could you not? You’ve been practicing like shit and worst of all your air awareness has never been so off. Jumping feet into the air and twisting and turning without knowing where you are in comparison to the ground. Not only dangerous but terrifying.

At the beginning of every season your coach always told you and your team that getting to the top was one thing but staying there was another. Not to blow smoke up your ass but you were really fucking good. But you’d always vent to Tadashi how worried you were before every season. That maybe you’d finally get knocked off your podium or worse you’d get injured. He always told you that would never happen and even if it did you’d be just as amazing no matter what material your medal was made of.

You were stretching on the floor hours before your meet with your headphones blaring music when it paused. A loud ding and your boyfriend's name flashed across your phone.

“Hey, I know you’re probably busy right now. But I just want to wish you luck, you’re going to do great. We’ll be watching. Check the stands for the banner with your name on it.”

College sports were hard. College gymnastics was a whole other deal. You spent your mornings and afternoons at school while your evenings and nights were dedicated to practice. That’s actually how you met Tadashi. A rough bar routine landed you in muscle strengthening and you gave permission for a student to watch and help the trainer. He was cute, super cute and very good at what he did. He got your number from the receptionist and went out of his way to double check that you were okay the morning after your last day of strength training. You got to talking like friends, he went to his first meet ever, and months later you got a practically perfect boyfriend.

It wasn’t entirely perfect though. Your dedication to your sport and his to all of the projects and labs he did jammed your flow. You got into fights about being ignored and neglected. But you always make up within a few days. You had made it very clear that you would not compromise on what you wanted to do. Although that made your relationship rockier than some, it’s on Tadashi’s list of ten billion things he loves about you.

“Aww, thank you. I’m just stretching right now but I’ll see you guys soon. I love you.”

He responded back almost immediately.

“I love you too.”

A few hours later you arrived with your team and coach to the invitational that was quickly filling up with people. You saw a couple of people from your old gym waving to you. It was funny to think about how much you wanted to be like the big girls who wore the sponsored warm-ups and custom leotards, who got to pick their own floor music and used both the low and high bar. Now you are a big girl.

But even while you and your teammates were sat on the side of the blue carpeted floor in straddles and middle splits, the thought still lingered in the back of your mind.Your air awareness is awful. It was the one thing that cannot be taught, it's an instinct. And your instincts were off. Plus all season you’ve been having bad shoulders, bad wrists, and bad elbows. Earlier you had your coach help you wrap sports tape around your elbow and put Tiger Paws on your wrists.

After driving for a few hours, Tadashi and his family showed up to the invitational. He likes to sit closer to the top that way when you move events he can still see you just fine. They had to learn the hard way the gymnastics meets can go well into the day and sometimes even the night. But watching all your routines made it all worth it to him. Tadashi would never say it out loud but watching you do something you’re a literal expert on effortlessly is hot as fuck.

You came down from your bridge stretch and immediately saw your boyfriend, his brother, and their aunt sitting down with a banner with your name written on it. You smiled at them and waved when your coach wasn’t looking. It was improper etiquette to interact with the audience during a meet but you still wanted to say hi. One of your teammates noticed.

“Is that your boyfriend?” She asked, looking at Tadashi. Some of the other girls’ ears perked up and they immediately looked in the direction you were looking in.

You smiled to yourself. “Yeah, him and his family.”

“You guys are so cute, it’s gross.” Another girl added.

You laughed and went back to stretching before your coach could catch you. By the time the meet actually started your first event was vault. The cool thing about vault is if you mess up you get to try again. And whichever vault you do better is the one the judges will score. Tadashi and his family knew next to nothing about gymnastics before you so it was really funny when they would get mad at the way the judges scored you thinking you deserved better.

Your first vault was fine. Not great and nothing like you usually do but fine which technically meant it was shit. By your second one you coach quickly pulled you aside and reminded you “just trust yourself” before sending you off to go again. Your teammates were encouraging and by the time you went again you did much better. You could feel it.

Tadashi and his family were screaming so loud they were getting dirty looks from the people around them but it’s not like they give a shit. They came to see you and to them you always did amazing. You always thought it was cute that your boyfriends took videos of your routines on his own phone even though college meets are filmed professionally because he liked having them.

Your beam routine was fine except that part where you almost fell off and took two steps back out of your dismount. And your bar routine was a hot mess. Not only did your elbow give out mid giant but you fell out of your jaeger. It was taking every last bit of mental will for you to not start crying. It was beyond frustrating. You could feel the blood from one of your old rips seeping from underneath your grips. When you fell, Tadashi nearly jumped out of his skin and you laid flat on your back on the chalk covered mat with your hands over your eyes. His heart was racing when one of the medics and your coach approached you. You said something like ‘im fine’ and sent the medic back. He could see it on your face, you weren’t fine. Tadashi sat back down in his seat as an ugly feeling settled in his stomach.

Your last routine was always floor. Everyone likes floor routines because they’re entertaining and not as nerve racking as beam or quick as vault. For a few moments into your routine you thought floor would be your redeeming event for the day. Until your second tumbling pass when you were on your second tuck and had no clue where you were in the air or how close you were to ground. When you did land, almost falling out of the white line, you heard a loud pop sound followed by a tearing sensation in your leg and collapsed onto the floor.

Cass nearly screamed as she saw you fall onto your side clutching your leg and covering your eyes. Pain written on the parts of your face she could see.

“Oh shit.” Hiro whispered to himself. When he looked over his brother was no longer sitting next to him. Your boyfriend nearly ran towards the end of the bleachers as the medics ran to you. You weren’t moving. How come you weren’t moving? He could see the gasps of air in your back. You were crying. Whether it was because you were in pain, couldn’t finish the season or both you were crying.

Your hamstring was on fire. Fuck it hurt so bad. One of the medics asks you what your pain level is and you don’t want to sound like a baby by saying a ten, but it really was a ten.

“It hurts.” You whined almost pitifully as one of the male medics picked you up in his arms and carried you as he repeated “I know, I know.”

He carried you to the nurses station on the outside of the building and Tadashi went sprinting after you two. It made him borderline sick to see how many people had pulled out their phones just to record you laying on the floor holding your thigh and crying. By the time he got there you were sitting with your leg elevated and an ice pack right on top of your hamstring. Tears were still dribbling from your eyes.

“Baby,” He breathed out and sat down right next to you and put his hand on your face, wiping your tears with his thumb. “Are you okay?”

You were honest and shook your head no. “It hurts.”

“Yeah, it looked like it hurt.” He pressed a kiss to the side of your head and just held you. He could already see the slight bruising spread onto your skin. “If it makes you feel any better you were beautiful today.”

He smiled at you and you could only give him a small weak one in return. His heart cracked a little down the middle at your face broken into tears of sadness, pain, and frustration.

“I fucked everything up.” You wiped your nose with your hand.

Tadashi pressed more kisses to the side of your face. “No, don’t say that. Don’t-”

“Yes I did.” You insisted, now sobbing like a little girl. “That was the worst I’ve ever done!”

Your sobs were deep and full of sadness. He glanced down at your leg and saw more of the bruise becoming more prominent and colorful. Gently, he placed his hand on the ice pack and pushed it a tiny bit closer to your skin. The way he held you was so full of love and affection. The world could have been suffering an apocalypse in the background and he would still stroke your face as tenderly as he was.

“You were so beautiful today.” He repeated. “You’re so beautiful now.”

You laughed a bit thinking about how you were looking up at your boyfriend with spit, tears, and snot on your face. Yet he still looked at you like he meant it. The prettiest girl he’d ever seen, bodily fluids and all.

“You know this is kinda how we met.” He whispered to you. “You were injured and I took care of you.”

“Yeah but that time it was your job to do it.” You joked. It was nice to hear you joke a bit.

“Still, I liked seeing you. On Friday you would always come in covered in chalk because that was the only day you had training after practice.” He recalled it like it was yesterday. Small details like that that he would remember till the day he died.

“Is that how it’s going to be this time?” You asked. “Are you taking care of me?”

He pressed a kiss to your lip and smiled. “I’ll always take care of you. Plus this time it’s just you and me. No doctor supervision.”

“Should I be worried?” You laughed finally. A true laugh.

He squished your face with one hand and blew air into your ear. “Only slightly.”

“Great, can’t wait.” You smiled and scooted your body closer to his despite the pain.

#baymax #big hero 6 #big hero six #disney #fanfic #hiro hamada #bh6 x reader #tadashi hamada #napakmahal #tadashi hamada x reader #college gymnastics #don’t pull your hamstring #seriously don’t it hurts so bad I thought I was dying

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the-kr8tor · 10 months ago

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Happy fluffy Friday!! Can I request the Hobie and the reader having to take Billie and Ramona to run errands?

Thank you!

S'cute!! Thank you for requesting, hope you like it 🫶

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Word count: 1.6k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, Dad! Hobie, Mom! Reader, Billie and Ramona AU, Twin AU, cw food mentions, FLUFF

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

“Crisps me up, Mac” Hobie's hand is reaching behind him, fingers flexing for the twin's snack, his eyes fixated on the road ahead.

The sedan rattles as it hits a speed bump. It's been the Brown family car since the girls were born. Hobie traded his old band van for it so the girls would have somewhere to comfortably sit from the hospital. You still remember the day you brought them home, Hobie practiced with a doll weeks before so he knows how to work a car seat even before they arrived. He's now an expert in handling the contraption.

The seats still smell like baby powder, under the powdery fragrance lies the cheesy aroma of their snack that has made you crack open the window a smidge.

Billie slaps her dad's hand away, the bag crinkles in her tiny hands. “Not crisps, dad! They're cheesy pretzels!”

You watch the interaction in the rearview mirror with a smile. Mona giggles next to her sister, their car seats full of stickers they got from family and their dad. Both girls are still in their gymnastics leotards, oversized shirts and jackets over the sparkly spandex. They look absolutely adorable, you just want to reach behind to squeeze their cheeks but you fight the indulgence.

“Alright, pretzel me up you gremlin. It's payment for driving you” He doesn't relent, a teasing smile on his lips.

“We're almost there, dad” despite her disapproval, Billie still gives him a handful of cheesy pretzels.

Hobie gobbles it up in one bite, reaching behind again to wipe his hand clean on Billie's shirt. She squeals, laughing and kicking at his hand. Her tiny shoe falls off, thudding softly on the car floor.

“Daddy’s driving, Bee!” Mona grabs her sister by the arm. “Mum, stop them”

“Okay, that's enough, you two can goof off in the store.”

Hobie sticks his tongue out at the rearview mirror, Billie does the same, her scrunched face making you laugh.

Hobie's cheesy coated hand slyly snakes to yours, locking your hand in place.

You give him the stink eye. He laughs, bringing your hand closer to him, pressing a quick kiss on your knuckles.

“What? You've got wet wipes with you right?” He says in-between chuckles.

You only stare at him with your eyes narrowed, pretending to be annoyed as you feel the stickiness of the cheese on your palm. Good thing you actually have those wipes.

Hobie parks the car, it makes a rumbling sound as he turns off the ignition.

“Blinky sounds like he's hungry” Mona comments, the twins dubbed the car ‘blinky’ since they could talk, but it's only making it hard for you and Hobie to finally get the car replaced.

“Yeah, he's hungry for some petrol.” Hobie unclips his seatbelt before unclipping yours and stealing a kiss right under your nose.

“Hey,” you beam at him, “I'll get you later, you'll see”

“Lookin' forward to it” he gets out of the car with a smile that could rival the sun.

Hobie gets Billie out of her car seat, pausing to put her shoe back on, he makes the signature dad groan when he lifts her up.

“You smell like cheese, mac. Maybe we should switch you to cheese and Mona could have mac instead, huh?” He looks at Billie like she's the most precious cheese coated jewel in the world.

“Okay! If Mon says yes.”

They both look at you and Mona. You're just about releasing her, having a harder time than Hobie with the car seat.

Ramona looks at them with a pout. “Mum can't get me out again”

“You need help, love?” Hobie asks.

“Nope,” you curse whoever made the straps so complicated for your hands. “Anddd got it!”

“In record time too” he teases, taking each girls' backpacks from the floor with ease. Show off.

“Good job, mummy” Mona murmurs, placing a cheese filled kiss to your forehead.

“Thank you, baby”

With each girl in tow, you place them both in a cart. You and Hobie quickly learned that letting them roam isn't such a good idea when either girl suddenly wanders around, because for sure the other would follow.

The wheels squeak, the handle of the grocery cart is cold against your palms. Hobie, who has the foresight, takes the cart from you, looping his arm around yours so he's still technically holding your hand without taking his hands off the precious cart that holds his babies. And at the same time shielding you from the wretched cold.

“Daddy, cereal!” In some twin telepathy, both girls yell the exact same thing.

“We'll get to that aisle, thing one and two. We still need to get other stuff first, yeah?” He bends at the waist to wipe a powder of cheese on Mona's cheek.

She scrunches her nose. “Thank you, dad”

“So polite,” he looks at her like she hung the stars, all cheese and stardust. “Where'd you get that from huh?”

“Mummy” Mona doesn't miss a beat. You snicker from the side.

“Fair enough,” he shrugs, the girls giggle at their dad making a funny face.

You seize the opportunity in the empty soup aisle. Kissing the corner of his lips, you smile into the quick peck.

“Had to do it or your face will get stuck like that.”

“Got me good, gorgeous” he grins, his eyes crinkling happily at the corners. “Would you still love me if my face stays forever like this?” Hobie makes the face again, the girls guffaw like it's the best comedy special ever.

You whisper, “that's what the mask is for, Spiderman”

“So rude, I can't believe you've done this, in front of our children too.” He feigns hurt, clutching at his chest. “I hope Mona didn't get that from you”

You fake a gasp.

The girls fully know their father's antics and how you two weirdly flirt with each other. Billie impatiently taps Hobie's hand while Mona yawns from her seat.

“Let's go, Mon’s sleepy” Billie's tapping gets faster with every heart filled stare you throw at each other. “Stop with the kissy faces! We're tired!”

“Alright, alright! How impatient, you know you got that from your dad” you wink at Billie.

—

“One only, choose wisely” Hobie holds up two different boxes of sugar filled cereal in front of the girls.

You watch as their eyes flick from one pink box to a brown box with a bunny mascot on it. It's like they're watching a tennis match.

They converse amongst themselves, the council of cereal you and Hobie once called.

“This is going to take a while, d’you want to get the detergent while the council's deliberating? I'll stay here with them and be the referee.”

“Sure, tell me their reasoning this time” you squeeze his bicep, smooching his jaw.

“‘course. No stopovers at the candle aisle!” he half yells while you're walking away.

You give him a thumbs up, winking at him.

“Your mum's definitely going to sniff some candles.”

“We got it, dad! We want the chocolate–” Billie starts.

“Strawberry one–what?” Mona continues.

Hobie has a thought to just buy both boxes, but he doesn't want them to get spoiled too much. So he lets them argue, huffing out air when they get particularly catty with each other. He's definitely gonna have to be a referee.

—

You carry Billie right at the end of the register, her eyes are bright and curious while watching the cashier scan the items incredibly fast. She holds onto your hand as you face her towards what appears to her as the greatest show ever. She's getting heavier and heavier but you'll be damned if you stop carrying your daughters. Even if it means breaking your back.

Snuggling close to her neck, she giggles, her bubble jacket crinkles as you rub your chin atop her shoulder.

“Mum!”

“Okay, okay I'll stop, for a kiss?” you face your cheek to her side. She places a sticky kiss, leaning away with a smack of lips. “Thank you”

“You're welcome” she gets back to observing the laser, her eyes transfixed, ears perking at every beep.

You watch as Mona sneaks a chocolate bar to the lineup, she barely reaches the top of the counter, trying her best not to get noticed by her dad, her eyes flicking from him to you. He notices alright, but Hobie lets it slide, he even sneaks his own candy bar for Billie. You pretend you do not see. They deserve the treat, you both think, just for making huge progress with their cartwheels during class.

While Hobie places the groceries in the trunk, you place both girls in their car seats securely.

“What do you guys want for dinner?” You ask as you lock Billie's seatbelt in place.

“I want spaghetti” Mona yawns in the middle of her sentence.

Billie nods, fighting to keep her eyes closed. “With extra meatballs please”

“Okay, will you help mum and dad like last time?” They slowly nod, rubbing at their sleepy eyes.

They jump slightly when Hobie closes the trunk, “sorry” you hear his muffled apology.

Driving home was much quieter, both girls are sleeping soundly in their car seats, head lolling to the side. Mona embraces her blanket even asleep while Billie’s foot twitches.

“They even sleep like you,” you softly say.

“Hmm? What do you mean? You sleep like that too. Your foot twitches like that”

“And you cuddle me like that”

“Told you, we'd make a perfect blend”

“Yeah, they're perfect” you lean to the side to kiss his cheek, careful not to mess up his driving.

He hums, wishing to kiss you back. Maybe he can pull over real quick to kiss you properly this time.

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daysofyellowroses · 4 months ago

Text

training season

kerry von erich x afab!reader | 3.4k | 18+ minors dni | honestly zero plot to be found, just smut because why not!

i don't think it's an overstatement to say this is incredibly overdue 🤦🏻‍♀️ i started writing it in..march i want to say, and then hit a bit of a mental health slump but here we are in july, surviving if not thriving ✨️ this story is based on this request from the most patient angel in the universe, love of my life, @thecapricunt1616 do yourself a favour and scoot on over to discover the best blog in existence 🫶🏻💗🌼 enjoy!

🥇

“He's here again.”

“Who?”

“Your not-so-secret admirer.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, not looking across the room. It was the third or fourth time that week that some of your fellow team USA athletes just happened to be in the same gymnasium as you. Sure, their disciplines were based outdoors, but you were all happy to keep up the charade that they were there for moral support. Not to watch you and the other gymnasts walk around in flimsy practice leotards, absolutely not. Like you and the girls never went to watch the guys strut around in their flimsy vests, you were just there for moral support.

When it was your turn on the mat, you took your time unzipping your hoodie, carefully folding it and setting it aside as you felt eyes on you. When you walked over to the corner of the mat, you gave a slight glance across the room, checking who was sitting in the stands. Of course Kerry was there, you would have been disappointed if he wasn't.

You always pushed yourself to be the best, but knowing he was watching you always pushed you harder, made you add a little extra flair to your routine as you moved across the floor with ease, throwing yourself into your practice.

After you'd finished and had rejoined the girls, you found Kerry still watching you when the next girl went to practice, looking away after giving him a smile and trying not to feel too smug to have his attention.

It wasn't like he didn't have yours, you supposed. You just enjoyed keeping him on a hook.

Of course, you and the girls just happened to be going for a walk around the training grounds later that afternoon when Kerry and his teammates were out for practice. It was a beautiful afternoon and you were just enjoying the weather while you had some free time.

While some of the girls stopped to properly watch the guys training, you linked arms with your bestie on the team and kept walking, giving the occasional glance over your shoulder before looking away and bursting into a fit of laughter about how teenage it all was.

Still, teenage or not..it worked.

As you were rounding a lap of the training grounds, you spotted Kerry walking over to you and had your bestie giving you some excuse or the other before she went to join the other girls/spectators. You didn't mind having an audience, after all it was girls you'd known for along time and you'd been in the group watching on enough times.

“Hey,” Kerry grinned as he approached you, his hoodie draped over his shoulder. “what brings you out here?”

“This weather, obviously,” You grinned, unzipping your hoodie a little. “It felt criminal to be inside any longer.”

“Fair enough,” Kerry nodded, smirking a little as he glanced over to the girls, huddled together and giggling as they all pretended the grass was suddenly fascinating.

“How are you feeling about next week?”

“Like the gold is already around my neck,” You shrugged with a smile, folding your arms as Kerry looked back at you. “what about you? Feeling confident?”

“Absolutely,” He grinned, gesturing to himself. “You saw me out there, I got this.”

“Who says I saw you?” You rolled your eyes with a grin. “I was taking a walk, I don't have time to watch you.”

“Right, that walk all around here..where I just happen to be,” Kerry raised a brow. “There's no shame checking me out, I'll take the support.”

You laughed and shook your head,adjusting your arms to sit tighter under your chest. “Can I borrow some of that confidence for my routine?”

“Like you need it,” Kerry rolled his eyes playfully. “You were great out there. Couldn't keep my eyes off you.”

“You're welcome,” You grinned, taking a step closer. “Happy to provide you with some free entertainment.”

“Oh yeah?” Kerry stepped closer too, the distance between you now minimal. “Maybe I can repay the favor.”

“How do you plan to do that?” You asked, looking up at Kerry under your lashes with a grin. “I'm not easily impressed.”

“Then let me try,” Kerry winked, taking a slight step back. “Come by tonight. We're having a party. You can show me some of those moves of yours up close.”

“I'll think about it,” You shrugged, unable to stop the smile on your face.

“I know you will,” Kerry grinned. “Just try and think about the party too. Be great to see you.”

You did think about it, and you knew you and the girls would absolutely end up at the party but you weren't going to make that known. It was the same with all the Olympic village parties, you and the girls would show up fashionably late, looking drop dead gorgeous and have the best time.

Kerry's party wouldn't be any exception. Music blasted while you and the girls got ready, drinks flowing as you all perfected yourselves. Technically the athletes weren't supposed to have parties, to drink or smoke or eat burgers or in some people's cases work their way through the countries of the world person by person. But once you all brought home medals, the coaches were willing to look the other way now and then.

You were feeling pretty buzzed when you got to the party, which had spilled out from the apartments onto the grounds. Music was blasting, drinks were flowing, a cup being handed to you as soon as you arrived. You took your besties hand and twirled her around before doing a lap of the party. You waved to some of your fellow team USA athletes, keeping an eye out for Kerry. When you spotted him, you and your bestie kept yourselves within his eyeline, dancing to the music.

It didn't take long until you felt a hand on your back, giving your bestie a grin as you rolled your eyes playfully. You turned around and smiled as you spotted Kerry, resting your hand on your hip.

“Found me then?”

“You're hard to miss when you're looking like this,” Kerry grinned, eyeing you up and down. “Got all eyes on you when you're looking so good.”

“Oh yeah?” You grinned, raising a brow before looking back to your bestie. She took your empty cup before telling you she'd get you another drink, giving you a wink before walking away.

“Seems weird,” You looked back at Kerry, touching the sleeve of his t-shirt. “Seeing you so covered up. I'm used to you in your vests.”

Kerry laughed before taking a sip of his drink, his eyes focused on you. You knew the black mini wrap dress you'd thrown in your suitcase at the last minute was a good idea.

“Is that your way of saying you prefer me half naked?” Kerry teased.

“Absolutely not,” You raised a brow with a grin. “Why would I prefer half naked to the whole thing?”

Before he could respond, you held out your hand with a grin, tilting your head slightly.

“Come dance with me.”

“Yes ma'am.”

You turned once Kerry's hand was on yours, leading him further into the crowd before turning back and wrapping his arm around you as you swayed against him. He moved his free hand to grip your waist, holding you flush against him. The music felt louder, pounding in your ears as you moved your body to the rhythm.

Kerry leaned down to kiss your neck, your head falling back against his shoulder as your hands moved over his, your heart racing as warmth flooded you. For all your teasing and flirtations, you'd never gotten so close to him before, felt all of him pressed against you. Really you cursed yourself for not doing it earlier.

“Didn't know you knew how to dance,” You grinned, slowly stepping forward before turning in Kerry's arms and wrapping your arms around his neck. “You got any other hidden talents?”

“Plenty,” Kerry smirked, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. “Though they ain't gotta stay hidden.”

You gently trailed your fingers through Kerry's hair, smirking slightly as you leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“I hope not. Show me what you got.”

As you felt Kerry's hands move down your body to grab your ass and pick you up, you let out a squeak of excitement as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“No time like the present hm?” Kerry smirked, taking a step forward as you held onto him, giving him directions as best as you could, distracted by the feel of him against your already soaked panties.

You were feeling desperate by the time you reached Kerry's bedroom, weaving through the heated crowd who in a few days wouldn't be smoking, drinking and dry humping on couches, the world watching respectable athletes at the peak of their prowess.

The feeling of a solid door behind your back snapped you from your thoughts, you met Kerry's eyes and moved your hands to touch his neck.

“Come on then,” You murmured with a grin. “whip out your talents.”

Kerry laughed before he leaned in to kiss you, to your unexpected surprise. You had often thought about how it might feel, knowing it was inevitable. It turned out to be better than you could have ever imagined. He tasted like beer and a hint of cigarettes, his lips soft against yours. His hands were still gripping your ass, and you didn't object to it when his fingers found the waistband of your panties.

“Put me down, I'll take them off,” You groaned into the kiss, your hands moving to grip Kerry's curls. “ruined anyway.”

After a moment, Kerry slowly set you down, and you broke the kiss just long enough to reach under your dress before Kerry's arm touched yours.

“No,” He met your eyes before glancing down, his hand moving down your arm to slip under your dress and touch your wrist. “Let me.”

You managed a nod, watching Kerry sink to his knees before you. He slowly reached under your dress, fingers digging into the waistband of your panties. He tugged them down slowly, his eyes held on yours.

“Fuck,” You murmured softly as you noticed the size of the wet spot on your panties, now pooled at your feet.

“Not a bad start,” Kerry grinned as he looked down and reached for the hem of your dress. “But you can do better. Get this off for me, will you?”

You took a breath as you reached for the hem of your dress, your fingers brushing against Kerry's. It took some serious self control to slowly peel your dress up over your head and not just rip it away. When you were left standing in just your bra, your heart raced as you met Kerry's eyes, a smirk on his face.

“Good girl,” He murmured softly, his hands moving along your thighs. “So obedient, ain't you?”

As much as you wanted to give a sassy little retort, you found yourself distracted by some primal part of your mind for a moment, lifting your leg up slowly and draping it over Kerry's shoulder. You smirked slightly as you noticed he was caught off guard, tilting your head slightly.

“Waiting for someone to wave you in?” You teased, reaching for your bra strap and slowly tugging it down your shoulder.

“Don't be a brat,” Kerry grinned, hooking his arm around your leg as he leaned in and placed a soft kiss to your wet center. You closed your eyes as he slowly locked a stripe up to your clit, your heart racing. Your hand moved to grip his hair, a gasp escaping you as you felt Kerry's hand grip your thigh.

As he slowly licked along your wet folds, you tried to steady your breathing, opening your eyes and glancing down. The sight of Kerry buried between your legs had you weak, gripping his hair tighter as he moved his free hand between your legs. The pads of his fingers brushed over your entrance, the teasing getting to you.

“Gotta be patient, darlin’” Kerry murmured against you, lapping at your clit as you let out a moan. You wished you hadn't waited so damn long to get him between your legs, but you were determined to make up for lost time.

Kerry's fingers sweeping over your entrance drew back your attention, your high feeling closer as he slowly pushed a digit into you.

“Fuck,” You groaned, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. You gripped Kerry's hair as he brought you closer and closer to the edge, your heart racing as you felt the high closing in on you.

You weren't sure if you screamed or if the sound caught in your throat when you came, the feeling of it hit you harder than you expected and had you seeing stars. It took a moment to register Kerry standing up and holding your waist, your body slowly coming back down to earth.

You took a breath as you met his eyes, knowing he'd give you anything in the world in that moment if you asked.

“Kiss me,” You murmured softly, reaching for the collar of his shirt and pulling him closer until his lips were against yours. You could taste yourself on his lips, addicted to it immediately. You grabbed at the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and letting out a gasp when he pulled back. His shirt was on the floor in a flash, and you watched as he began removing the rest of his clothes. When he was down to his boxers, he reached for the waistband before pausing and looking at you with a smirk.

“Not gonna be the only naked one,” He grinned, gesturing to your bra, just about still on you. “Fair is fair.”

“Then come even the playing field,” You teased, toying with the strap of your bra and letting out an excited shriek when Kerry was on you in a heartbeat. He kissed your neck as his arms weapon around you, his fingers making swift work of ridding you of your bra. You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a soft breath as he pulled back to look at you.

“Feeling okay?” He asked, eyes searching yours.

“Better than okay,” You grinned, leaning in to kiss him. His arms wrapped around your waist before he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his waist. “As long as you keep doing what you're doing.”

“Oh yeah?” Kerry murmured against your lips, smirking as he walked over to the neatly made bed and promptly tossed you down on it. “You mean something like that?”

“I suppose so,” You rolled your eyes with a grin as you propped yourself up on your elbows and glanced at the bed.

“Wow..I guess these things are a little sturdier than they wanted us to think.”

“I'm happy to test them out,” Kerry grinned, standing at the end of the bed and watching you keenly.

“See what they're made of.”

You sat up a little, eyeing Kerry with a smirk.

“We can do that..if you ever take off those damn shorts. Are they glued to you or something?”

“Not necessarily,” Kerry grinned, snapping waistband. “Just like making you wait.”

“Kerry Von Erich,” You raised a brow, giving him a pseudo serious look. “you can either take those shorts off or get the hell out.”

“You gonna kick me outta my own bedroom?” Kerry teased, stepping closer to the bed. “doesn't seem fair to me.”

You laid back down on the bed, stretching your arms up for a moment.

“Doesn't have to be fair. Your choice, I can always do this without you.”

“Well as much as I would love to see that,” Kerry grinned, his hands moving to his waistband. “It ain't gonna be necessary. Get on your knees for me like a good girl.”

“Yes sir,” You grinned, rolling onto your stomach and slowly drawing your knees up to expose yourself to Kerry. A thrill shot down your spine as you felt the mattress dip, taking a breath as you felt Kerry's hand gently stroke the back of your thigh.

“You gonna spread these for me?”

You were pretty sure your arousal was dripping onto the bed as you spread your legs wider, your heart racing. What you expected was to feel Kerry's hand grip your waist, feel his throbbing dick tease your entrance, what you didn't expect was to feel his tongue lapping at your wet folds once again.

“Kerry,” You moaned, clutching at the tightly tucked sheets. “I..”

“What's the matter?” Kerry murmured behind you, his hand moving slowly across your thigh, fingers brushing against your hot core. “Cat got your tongue?”

“Very funny,” You scoffed, taking a breath as you felt Kerry's hand move between your legs, fingers replacing his tongue. “I'm just wondering if you're going to fuck me or if I need to do it myself.”

“Would you prefer that?” Kerry asked softly, placing a soft kiss to your back as his fingers slowly spread you open.

“I..I'll take what I can get,” You murmured in response, heat riding in your abdomen. “But I suppose you're the preferable option.”

“Lucky me,” Kerry chuckled, slowly easing his fingers from you and patting your raised ass.

“What are we waiting for?”

“You tell me,” You grinned, looking over your shoulder and moving your ass back towards Kerry. “I'm running out of patience here.”

Kerry shook his head with a grin, gently touching your hip as he met your eyes.

“Turn over then. I wanna see your face.”

You felt your heart race at the comment but tried not to let it show, instead giving Kerry a nod before you moved onto your back, taking a breath.

“Is this okay?” Kerry asked, the sincerity in his eyes making you smile.

“It could be even better,” You grinned, your arms moving around Kerry's neck. “But yes, it's okay.”

Kerry grinned at your answer, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that felt like it should have taken place on a beach at sunset and not on a flimsy cardboard bed in the Olympic village but you weren't going to complain.

For all your bravado and teasing, you felt like you and Kerry were teenagers again. You had known each other since you were teenagers, of course. Always had an eye on each other, thought about what it could be like.

And now that it was happening, you felt like it was just as exhilarating and passionate and fun as you imagined it would be. Your legs wrapped around Kerry's waist as he gently moved in you, his lips kissing a trail along your neck.

As much as you would never admit it, you were pleasantly surprised that Kerry took it a little slow at first, getting you used to the feeling. And when you let him know he could take it a little further he didn't hesitate, pushing your legs apart and burying himself deeper, but keeping a slow pace that had you melting into the bed.

When you felt like you were falling closer to the edge, you pushed Kerry onto his back, climbing on top of him and letting out a moan as you let yourself sink down onto him, taking a moment to enjoy the feeling, to feel his hands on your waist, his eyes burning onto you.

You weren't sure how you managed to go so long without giving in when it felt so good, your nails digging into Kerry's chest as you rode him towards your high, the sounds of his moans and cries of your name drawing you closer and closer, you leaned to down to kiss him as you felt the wave build, the most wonderful sensation taking over you before you let a shriek.

Not due to your (impending) orgasm, but rather due to the bed proving itself to be as unstable as intended.

You clung to Kerry as the bed crumpled underneath you both, the blankets curling around you. There was silence for a moment before you both erupted into laughter.

“Guess they really are trying to stop us this year,” Kerry grinned, gently stroking your back. “too little too late though.”

“Oh we're not done yet,” You grinned, carefully getting up before walking over to the wardrobe and leaning against it, giving a light knock on the wood.

“Reckon we could break this too?”

“I think we could certainly try,” Kerry grinned, getting up and walking over to you, his arms pulling you close. “what have we got to lose?”

#the iron claw #kerry von erich x reader #kerry von erich x you #kerry von erich fic #yes i updated this to reflect the paris olympic bed sitch #💗🫶🏻🌼

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maddiethedogstories · 3 months ago

Text

The Floor Routine

Inspiration struck Erica while watching the Olympics cuddled up with Mads. Snug in her soggy nighttime diaper and favorite Winnie the Pooh two-piece pajama set, she stared up at her boyfriend. Erica had been living her best life since Mads had agreed to be her boyfriend and caregiver. Only one issue had cropped up.

As time went on, Erica could tell Mads was losing respect for her as an adult. That loss of respect was expected when someone was tasked with changing your messy diapers everyday, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. Erica still wanted to be seen as the sexy, intimidating, and mature woman Mads used to see her as, if only just occasionally.

That's where gymnastics came in. In high school, Erica had been a gymnast. However, like with many youthful endeavors, age, injury, time, and resources cut her gymnastic career short. But, the Olympics reminded Erica how strong, powerful, intimidating, and sexy the sport was.

Two days later, Erica stood just inside the door to her nursery, dressed in the sexiest leotard she could find, ready to surprise Mads.

"Are you ready, Daddy?" She called out flirtatiously.

"Yes, baby," Mads responded.

Erica stepped out from behind the door, revealing her sexy body wrapped in spandex that barely covered her naughty bits. Mads looked at her, appreciating the view. Erica grinned as his eyes lingered on her ass.

"Sweetie, you aren't even wearing a pull-up?! You're going to ruin your cute outfit!" Mads said.

Erica could have screamed. She almost did. She resisted though. Tonight, she was a big girl. She wasn't going to throw a tantrum. Instead, she walked up to her boyfriend and grabbed his crotch.

"I'm only worried about needing protection from this!" She said, kissing Mads as she stroked his cock through his pants.

After what Erica deemed an appropriately long make-out session, she pulled away.

"Are you ready to see some of my special skills, Daddy?" Erica asked huskily. Mads just grinned.

"Other than being the world's cutest pamper packer?" He asked, squeezing her mostly exposed ass.

Erica did stomp her foot at that.

"Daaaddddy!"

Mads tussled her hair before saying, "I know, baby, I'm sorry. Let me grab your diaper bag and we can go."

Erica huffed again, but knew from experience there was no getting Mads to go anywhere with her without her diaper bag.

The couple reached their destination in 20 minutes: the Little City Gymnastics Center. Erica led Mads into the building with all of the energy of a toddler dragging their caregiver into a toy store, excited to show off her moves and re-establish herself as a capable woman to her boyfriend.

Once inside, they were greeted by a beautiful, younger woman at the front desk. Her name tag identified her as Sammy. As Erica looked at her, a familiar sensation struck her stomach and bowels. Not concerned, Erica dismissed the feeling as butterflies.

Sammy spoke cheerily, "You must be Erica? You rented out the whole gym for an hour? Come this way, let's get you where you want to go!"

Sammy led the couple down a hallway and into the main gym. A large, springy floor for floor routine was surrounded by various other gymnastics apparatus, pads, and training devices. Erica's eyes went wide as she walked in, and the sensation she was calling butterflies intensified. It was beautiful.

"Here you go, have fun! I'll be in the corner if you need anything," Sammy said, grabbing her cellphone and leaning against a wall.

Erica grabbed Mads hand as she turned and looked at him seductively. "Are you ready to see how much of a 'big girl,' I can be?" She said as she dragged him towards the space for practicing floor routine in the center of the room. Erica didn't even notice her other hand subconsciously rubbing her stomach as she walked.

"Of course, baby," Mads said with a smile.

Erica moved to the center of the floor and prepared for her first move, a standing back flip. She hadn't done one since high school, but she was sure that didn't matter.

Making eye contact with Mads, Erica squatted down, threw her arms back, and launched. The world blurred for a moment before Erica realized she had screwed up.

Erica undershot her landing, leaving her feet splayed out behind her as she belly-flopped into the hard floor. Failing to land wasn't the worst thing to happen though. As she hit the floor, Erica lost control of the cramps she had chalked up to nerves. With a trumpeting sound, her bowels released themselves, forcing Erica to push out a lumpy brown mess into the back of her leotard.

Mads quickly ran to Erica's side, diaper bag in tow. "Oh, baby, did you have a little accident?" He said as he hugged her.

Erica couldn't form words. She just sobbed as she felt her mess squish in her leotard.

With deft hands, Mads quickly undressed and diapered Erica. Sammy also appeared, holding a new, much less sexy, pink leotard that looked suspiciously like an infant's onesie. Mads quickly dressed Erica in that as well.

Staring at Erica, now dressed in the pink onesie with a substantial diaper bulge at her waist, Sammy pressed her finger to her lips.

"You know, sweetie, I don't think this room's for you," she said, grabbing Erica's hand. She led the waddling woman out of the room and into another one, a gym clearly meant for a toddler tumbling class. "This place seems much more your speed!"

Erica blushed as Mads came up from behind her, placed his hand on the small of her back, urging her to go play. "Go on, little one, enjoy your time! Show Daddy what you can do!"

Erica toddled into the middle of the room and released her bladder, soaking her diaper in shame. Standing in the middle of the glorified daycare in a wet diaper and onesie, Erica knew she was precisely where she belonged.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is my entry for a little, friendly competition with @baby-erica! I may have lost, but she is still the bigger baby.

#ab/dl diaper #ab/dl kink #ab/dl story time #ab/dl caption #ab/dl couple #diaper stories #diaper regression #humiliation kink #ab/dl babygirl #The Floor Routine

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